


Relax

by Nununununu



Series: Comfortween 2020 [25]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda mentioned, Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, Comfort, Comfortween 2020, Day 25, Din Djarin Upkeep & Maintenance 101, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Touch-Starved, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27255607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: These days he’d normally leave it. With a little one about who not only fails to remember to knock but also has a tendency of mysteriously unlocking doors, the opportunity for self-indulgence is pretty much a thing of the past.He has the opportunity now.
Series: Comfortween 2020 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948441
Comments: 11
Kudos: 137
Collections: Comfortween 2020





	Relax

**Author's Note:**

> 25\. A Long Soak  
> For the prompt _bathing as comfort, visiting a hot springs, using hot tub or jacuzzi_
> 
> Smut :)

The child is safe, fast asleep under the watchful eye of the owner of the well-maintained boarding house, snuggled in a large warm basket together with the Rodian’s own little ones after having worn himself out playing with the other kids for hours followed by a huge dinner.

For once there’s no particular chance of peril. No need to rush back to the _Razor Crest_ , no job to prepare for currently, and enough credits to Din’s name that things are comfortable.

It’s odd at first, as such – and it’s undeniable that one of the strangest parts of it is being alone.

The second storey room is at the back of the house, away from other guests, with an easy route back downstairs to where the kid is sleeping. It’s a plain, simple room, just like the house itself is plain and simple, and there shouldn’t be any reason why it feels too big or too empty.

Din is self-aware enough to know the reason for this. He feels only gratitude to the Rodian and their children even so, for the easy friendship they’d instantly extended to the kid and while the chance of some downtime to himself is ultimately unnecessary, it’s also not entirely unwelcome, uncommon nowadays as it is.

Still.

Once his weapons are inspected and cleaned, and a few dings in his armour dealt with, he finds himself uncharacteristically almost puttering about. Checking the fairly oversized bed to ensure the little one won’t hurt himself tumbling off it, before remembering. Sticking his head into the refresher to check the kid’s not attempting to play with the toilet and having a moment’s panic when the little womp rat’s nowhere in sight. Glancing at the rare luxury of a tub with a semi-unconscious smile tugging at one corner of his mouth, imagining the kid splashing water everywhere and kicking his legs in a gleeful attempt to swim.

That’s something he’ll have to let the kid try out tomorrow night.

Turning to duck back out of the room, Din catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. The face that looks back at him is admittedly somewhat worse for wear. A shave, shower and hair wash are all in order.

So decided, he sets about to do as much. It’s only when he has a towel wrapped around his waist and the shower running to warm up as he wipes clean his newly bare cheeks and chin that he allows himself to acknowledge the way his gaze keeps catching the tub.

Just like this time spent alone, it’s ultimately unnecessary. An indulgence he can do without.

The near constant tension he carries in his shoulders and lower back is barely enough to register with him consciously. The ache of his legs from the long trek to get to the boarding house doesn’t occur to him at all, and the bruises and other such surface damage from the skirmishes he’s been involved most recently in are all inconsequential. In honesty, given the speed and efficiency of sonic or even water showers in comparison to baths, he can’t even remember the last time he opted for the latter – certainly not since the little one’s been under his care. The closest Din’s got to it is being soaked more or less from helmet to boot when giving the kid a bath of his own in a big bowl of warm water.

The little one is going to _love_ the tub.

Thinking vaguely on this and on the constantly changing list of adjustments needed for the _Razor Crest_ , Din has his shower, steps out, grabs a clean towel to wipe his face and chest – the refresher being stocked with a copious supply – and sticks his head out into the bedroom.

It’s as he left it.

Opening the door – cautiously – to the deserted corridor serves to further assure him that the kid hasn’t woken up; the little one’s lungs are good enough that he’d be sure to hear if the kid had. That or the little womp rat would be using his powers to make Din incontrovertibly aware that his attention is required.

If he listens hard enough, he can hear the Rodian downstairs singing softly to one of their own little ones as they rock them back to sleep.

Scrubbing his hand through his wet hair, Din shuts and locks the door once again. The air feels chilly against his still damp skin; he has to either bathe or locate something suitable to act as nightwear out of his pack.

The thought of settling down in that too big bed and just lying there in the dark waiting for sleep doesn’t overly appeal.

It’s with the slight but undeniable feeling that he’s talked himself into a decision that he had already previously subconsciously made, Din treks back into the refresher and turns on the taps to the tub.

Similarly to the shower, the thing’s old but in good condition and the plumbing doesn’t splutter or creak. Instead there’s just the steady flow of water and a slow curl of steam rising to fill a small room already warmed by his earlier washing, and the pinpricks that rise slightly on his skin in response as he sheds the towel.

Sinking into the tub feels – good, in a straightforward, uncomplicated way. Easy. Not much these days is easy, although he has no complaint providing the child is safe. Water is abundant on this planet and the Rodian had mentioned each refresher in every room being outfitted similarly; Din need not concern himself about the cost of heating it, given he has already paid the bill.

It is strange, but – there is nothing in particular he need do. Nothing he should be mulling over or puzzling out. Nothing that requires processing – or not processing, more likely – and no one he needs to kill or injure or deceive. No one he needs to falsely befriend in order to track down a mark; no one he needs to coerce or bring in. No sign of bounty hunters or anyone else after the child – which almost provides him with a twinge of paranoia until he thinks of the blaster the Rodian had lying discretely on a shelf out of the reach of their kids, and the fact he has expounded on the fact such things are neither for touching or investigating – physically or otherwise – with his.

He thinks of the last three pursuers the kid successfully stopped in their tracks and the other ways in which the child has proved capable of defending himself, and of the fastest routes down to the room the kid is sleeping in just in case – that staircase or either of the windows will do.

Then he just leans his head back against the side of the tub and soaks.

He can’t say how long it takes, his thoughts nebulous and gaze idly roaming the ceiling, before he comes back to himself enough to realise one hand is absently rubbing his thigh. The water is still warm and he’s as close to relaxed as he’s been in –

It feels like _years_.

It’s also been long enough that it takes his thumb almost accidentally brushing the head of his cock for Din realise that he’s partway towards getting hard.

“Hmm.”

These days he’d normally leave it. With a little one about who not only fails to remember to knock but also has a tendency of mysteriously unlocking doors, the opportunity for self-indulgence is pretty much a thing of the past.

He has the opportunity now.

Pressing his palm lightly against his cock, holding it against the crease of his thigh under the water, Din grimaces faintly as he considers. Even this much feels – a lot. More than it should do, really – it _has_ been a while. He genuinely can’t remember the last time he managed anything more than a hurried, ultimately unsatisfying fumble through a gap between clothing and armour that left him practically more wound up and tense than before he started.

Maybe he should rectify that.

“Uh –” Nudging his foreskin back with the ball of his thumb, he grazes the slit, stomach twitching at how oversensitive it feels in the warm water, letting himself hiss. It hurts a little as he rubs it – he’s going to need some sort of lubricant if he’s going to do this properly – but the sting isn’t entirely off-putting. He rubs a little harder, rolling the foreskin further back, circling his fingers around the slowly thickening shaft to give it an encouraging tug.

“Mm –”

Okay, so that feels –

It feels good.

Heat starts up in his belly as he runs his hand slowly up and down his shaft once again, pinpricks rushing this time over his skin. He has to pause for a moment and glance about, even though he knows objectively there’s no need for it. His cock is hard enough to start curving up from under the water now and so Din presses it against his belly, chafing the underside of the shaft lightly with his palm, shuddering just a bit at the roughness of calluses, frequent weapon use enough for them to form even through the fabric of his gloves.

A groan builds in his chest as the cooler air of the room prickles against the exposed head of his cock in contrast with the heat of the water. Scooping up a handful to splash at his shaft impulsively, the feel of it proves startling enough for him to huff a laugh at his own reaction, even as his belly flutters and his cock jerks.

Damn, if his body is this sensitive to as little as that, the thought of someone _else’s_ hand on his cock is –

“ _Kriff_ –”

There’s no one in particular, but the thought makes his balls tighten all the same. Widening his knees, Din reaches down to cup them in his other hand, squeezing gently, just rolling them for a bit in his palm. Letting his mind settle further on what he’s doing and what he intends to do, letting himself feel it; reminding his body it’s okay for him to take his time.

It takes him a while to realise he’s shaking a little despite this and even longer to control it.

He ought to get out of the tub and grab that lubricant – the refresher’s well stocked enough there’s got to be something he could use – and lie on the bed. But the kid’s likely to climb on the mattress the next day and Din’s really not about to start thinking about the little one right now – the next step being thinking about the little one busting in on him, which is a sure way to kill his erection possibly forever – and – and –

Really, if he sinks down lower so the water closes back over his cock, the scrape of his calluses against it combined with the heat is enough to make his breath come faster as he resumes moving his hand on his shaft, squeezing tighter on the upstroke until the muscles in his thighs and belly tense, knees falling open as far as they can. Not as far as his body wants them to, in honesty, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to achieve anything particularly creative in here, but he summons up the thought of someone, some undefined lover; pictures them perching on the side of the tub with a grin, reaching in to close their fingers around his under the water, rubbing their thumb against the head of the glans and his frenulum until he gasps.

“Huh –” Doing as much makes his cock twitch hard against his palm, his fingers tightening further and hand moving that bit faster, the water starting to slosh against the sides of the tub. There’s no one present to hear though and no one to know if he imagines that non-existent lover guiding his own hand away and taking over, running their other hand over his head to the nape of his neck as they work at drawing as much pleasure as they can out of him.

Digging his own fingers into his hair brings some satisfaction – more so when he tugs. Dragging it back down over his neck and chest to thumb at a nipple, pinching it until he feels himself leak precome, moaning very quietly as he imagines it dispersing into the water.

The thought of someone’s mouth closing over his cock is – is –

“Fuck –”

Damn it, the thought of someone fucking him is – Or of him fucking them – Of fucking and being fucked –

Of fucking into the firm clasp of his own hand, bracing his feet against the sides of the tub as he rocks his hips upwards, forgetting himself enough to grunt audibly even as he bites down on his lips.

Panting, he brings his free hand up from his chest to brush over his mouth, feeling the indent of his teeth in his lower lip, thinking of – thinking of –

Kissing –

Being kissed. Touching and being touched. Hands running over him, mouth tasting his skin. Tasting and caressing in return. Legs tangling together. His own legs spread wide, alone on the bed, fingers sliding down under his balls to brush against his perineum before continuing on lower, slick with lubricant, circling and slipping before sliding one in –

“ _Uh_ –” He can almost _feel_ it.

Can almost feel what he hasn’t had the chance to in years; wonderful, fulfilling pressure nudging up against his prostate, filling him in a way he hasn’t often felt safe enough to permit; straddling his partner's hips or caught between their legs.

Struggling with them in a way that isn’t anything to do with a threat. Wrestling for the fun of it, before allowing his partner, his imaginary lover, to pin him down and open him up. Warm hands guiding his hands above his head.

Doing the same to them another time in return. Going for a second round and being the one to cause them to unravel.

Simply doing what feels good for them both. Closing his eyes in sated exhaustion afterwards and falling asleep next to his lover, their limbs still entangled, bodies pressed together; ready to go again when they wake.

“ _Oh fuck_ –” It’s not so much that thought that brings Din over the edge, as it is a culmination of all of it.

Orgasm catches hold of him, rattling through him harder than he expects, hard enough his grip tightens around his cock almost to the point of pain and he has to hiss hard between his teeth. This changes into whining between them, he realises after a long moment – whining and clutching at the side of the tub with his free hand.

Kriff, his balls _ache_. It doesn’t even bear considering how much spunk they must have had pent up – pulling the plug so the water spirals out and takes any evidence with it, he then near falls out over the side and gives the tub a quick sluice clean, before wobbling on slightly shaky legs back to the shower.

A brief wash off, an equally brief dry with a towel, some sort of clothing to fling on just in case he’s needed during the night, a glance to confirm his helmet and weapons are all ready for use before a swift check of the bedroom and corridor just in case – no sound from anywhere in the boarding house or sign of trouble – and then he’s falling onto the bed.

The size of the thing doesn’t seem so unnecessary now; entirely uncharacteristically, he stretches luxuriously before sprawling out over the mattress.

“Damn,” It’s debatable whether his body remembers it even _had_ any aches and pains. Din’s out, snoring lightly, near enough the instant after he lowers the light.

The sleep he has that night is _magnificent_.


End file.
